well
lined with batteries, rose directly from the beach, and was washed by
the spray in every breeze. All the houses facing the sea have now been
taken down, and their places are occupied by wide handsome streets of
French buildings; the beach and the site of the old wall being occupied
by splendid quays, wharves, and terraces.

The houses of the Moorish town were square white-washed blocks, built so
close to each other that most of the streets were mere lanes, not more
than from six to ten feet wide. No windows worthy of the name garnished
the dead white walls of these houses, whose light sprang in reality from
within, each house being in the form of a square of building surrounding
a central court, which at the top was open to the weather. The real
windows of the houses looked into the courts, which, however, were by no
means dismal. They had fountains in the midst of them, which sent up a
perpetual--and, in such a climate, grateful--sound of trickling water;
while in their corners and elsewhere boxes of earth enabled
banana-trees, and palms, and various creepers, to convert the little
spots into delightful, though miniature, gardens. Such windows as
opened outwards were mere loop-holes, not much more than a foot square--
many of them less,--the larger of them being always strongly grated.
Most of these houses projected beyond their basement storeys, thus
rendering the open space above narrower than the streets below, and in
many cases the walls absolutely met, and converted the streets into
tunnels. Strange wooden props, seemingly insufficient for their duty,
upheld these projecting upper storeys, and gave a peculiarly un-European
character to the streets,--a character which became still more
perplexing to the stranger when he observed here and there, in places
where architecture had scarcely space or light to be seen, fountains of
the most elegant design and workmanship; doorways of white marble, most
elaborately and beautifully carved; and entrance-halls that resembled
courts of the Alhambra in miniature.

When one first sees such things they induce surprise, but the surprise
evaporates when we reflect that these pirates had at their command the
services of thousands of slaves, many of whom represented the artistic
talent of the civilised world.

Passing rapidly along these narrow streets, and bending his tall form
when he came to low archways, Bacri at length emerged on the chief "high
street" of the tow